"Who goes there?"
He lifted his head and asked. His eyes were hollow, and his cheeks were sunken, as if he hadn’t eaten properly for days.
In the vast stone chamber, only one person was trapped.
"Guild of Gilpin?"
Encrid asked. A gust of wind from somewhere made the torch flicker. Shadows danced, growing and shrinking on the stone walls.
"Ahhh!"
The man suddenly screamed.
"They're watching me from everywhere! Always watching me! They know everything I do!"
The half-crazed man, eyes bloodshot, shouted and then grabbed his head with both hands, slamming it onto the floor.
"Urrrgh."
The man drooled on the ground.
"Ughhh, they see everything I do. Stop looking at me, stop it!"
Encrid, unperturbed, observed the man carefully, checking his eyes and breathing.
There were no signs of poisoning, but the man's breathing grew fainter until it ceased entirely. He had died with his head buried in the ground, clutching it with both hands.
"Lua."
Encrid handed the torch to Luagarne and turned the man's eyes over.
Amid the bloodshot whites, he saw a speck. Something crumbly fell from the eye to his hand, feeling like stone dust.
Not something that should come from a dead man’s eyes. The corpse resembled the one that had tumbled to its death on the stairs during a night raid.
What on earth was going on, and where to even begin?
For most people, this would be overwhelming, but not for Encrid.
He figured if he dealt with the immediate issue, the one responsible for this would eventually reveal themselves.
Sometimes, acting like Krais was unnecessary, it was better to behave like Rem. Now was one of those times.
In other words, instead of overthinking, showing through action was quicker.
With that resolve, Encrid climbed upward, though his adversary acted faster.
If he could implement Rem’s pragmatism, so could they.
But was that such a bad thing?
'Not at all.'
The one he sought had revealed themselves, sparing Encrid the trouble.
At the top of the stairs, beyond those claiming to be lords, were others whose presence he could sense.
Climbing slowly, he saw the self-proclaimed lord, bound by ropes and kneeling, along with two spear-wielders and five wounded guild members bleeding from multiple injuries.
It was evident without asking that the gathered soldiers had inflicted these wounds.
"What a pity that you cause such trouble as soon as you arrive."
The mastermind behind the situation said, standing at the center.
It was the administrator.
"That face of his was annoying enough as it is."
Luagarne muttered.
Encrid climbed nonchalantly, scanning the surroundings.
There were groups of soldiers and those dressed differently—those who had fled earlier during the fight.
Armed with spears, crossbows, and short swords, they encircled the area, with the administrator at their center.
Encrid stared at the administrator as he ascended. The man twitched his eye and smirked as he spoke.
"Why stir up so much trouble when you could just rest in the mansion?"
Encrid took in the scene: the captives, the encircling troops, and even the blue sky and a tree blooming with winter flowers.
Flowers bloom even amidst filth.
That thought came to him. He didn’t know the lord’s character yet, but instinctively, he could tell the five defenders were decent, just like the innkeeper trying to protect her child.
There must have been other unseen flowers in this city.
But the filth around them would corrupt, uproot, and decay those flowers over time.
This place would become uninhabitable.
Even without foresight, deep thought, or wisdom, this was clear.
It was just that simple.
Pushing aside his musings, Encrid questioned the administrator about his actions.
"What gives you the confidence to step forward?"
It was an honest question. The numbers, distances, and forces were meaningless.
"Exactly."
Luagarne agreed.
Crossbows or not, this force couldn’t contain Encrid.
"You dare!"
The bound lord spat blood as he shouted at the administrator, his eyes bloodshot.
"You scheming bastard! Was this all your doing?"
The lord knew that three criminal guilds ruled the city and thought the administrator was a lackey clinging to them. He was wrong.
The administrator had orchestrated the guilds’ dominance, even before overthrowing the current lord.
For him, it was all just entertainment.
Watching the foolish lord’s desperate struggle and the guild leaders boasting about their superiority was amusing.
He had invested effort to dominate the city, but now the Knight of the Iron Wall was undoing it all.
He had to step in because no one else could deal with Knights like him.
It was a matter of who acted first.
The administrator believed so and spoke.
"You should stay still. Keeping you alive has been exhausting."
From the unfolding events, Encrid deduced the administrator was backing the three guilds.
But was this a threat? No. Encrid instinctively knew.
No one present could stop a single swing of his sword.
Even if the Goddess of luck herself blessed one of these soldiers, it wouldn’t suffice.
Blocking one attack wouldn’t end it, either.
Encrid’s unyielding Will allowed him to do what no other Knight could—endlessly cutting without tiring.
Few could claim to surpass him in this.
It was said cutting cloth required exceptional skill, but Encrid could do it literally.
"Shoot!"
The commander suddenly shouted, and all crossbowmen pulled their triggers.
Twang!
Strings made from beast sinew snapped, unleashing dozens of bolts.
Encrid moved faster than the human eye could follow, unsheathing his sword and swinging.
Clang-clang-clang!
The bolts struck his blade’s magical arc, falling to the ground.
The silver sword, streaked with black, left afterimages resembling dark threads embroidered on silver.
Luagarne, skilled in using her environment, moved behind Encrid, where no bolts could pass.
Everyone stood agape. Only the administrator knew Encrid’s identity.
Clap-clap-clap!
The administrator applauded, genuinely impressed.
"Impressive!"
His admiration was genuine. Watching someone deflect dozens of bolts with a single sword was astonishing.
Even the lord, dumbfounded, couldn’t believe his eyes.
He had seen the Knight fight earlier and found it unbelievable. This, however, surpassed that.
But as the Knight of the Iron Wall, it might just be expected.
Never having seen a Knight in action, the lord found the gap between knowing and witnessing overwhelming.
Encrid prepared to swing his sword at the administrator.
Stepping forward and leaping, his sword strike flowed seamlessly—a skill learned from Oara.
It was slow yet uninterrupted, paradoxically swift.
Encrid felt everything around him recede.
Every time he entered the gaps between moments, he experienced this.
A non-Knight couldn’t react to such speed.
With the target exposed, there was no need to hesitate. Encrid brought his sword down.
Thwack, crack!
Two distinct sounds followed. He retracted his sword after delivering all the force into his opponent’s head.
But the sensation was off—hard and tough, not quite human.
"Fall back!"
The man, his head split in two, shouted with his mouth torn to the sides.
An invisible force pushed Encrid back.
Normally, one would stagger, but Encrid deflected the unseen force using a technique learned from Audin.
To him, it was second nature, though extraordinary to his opponent.
The invisible hand spell dissipated ineffectively.
"Truly amazing!"
The administrator exclaimed again. As Encrid stood with his sword lowered, he saw a new head growing from the split one.
The administrator clearly had a trump card. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have acted.
The hidden power within him emerged.
The new head lacked a mouth, only eyes. His once-human body melted like candle wax, forming a brownish mass.
Exposed tendons and sinews covered his grotesque body, split horizontally across its center, floating in midair.
It was a creature transformed through monstrous power, appearing as nothing but a demon to onlookers.
"What...?"
"Evil Eye?"
The lord and a spear-wielder muttered. The Evil Eye, a rare demon from the Demon Realm, cursed with telekinesis and petrification.
Its transformation shocked everyone.
Having been created through experimentation, its intellect was deteriorating.
What remained was its demonic power.
The Evil Eye exerted telekinetic force on its foe.
An invisible weight flew toward Encrid, but he endured it.
It pushed him, but not with the force of Audin’s shoves or Rem’s strikes.
Though rare, this half-baked experiment lacked the true telekinetic might of a pure Evil Eye from the Demon Realm.
‘At best, it’s like Pel.’
Comparing its strength, Encrid concluded. Pel wasn’t weak, but compared to others, he lagged behind.
So simply enduring sufficed. Then the Evil Eye snatched spears from nearby soldiers.
Twenty spears hovered in midair, aimed at Encrid—head, back, and shins, covering his entire body.
With telekinesis, twenty soldiers’ worth of coordinated strikes became possible, an impossible feat with mere human effort.
Normally, only three to five could attack simultaneously due to physical limitations.
But telekinesis negated that.
Twenty spears targeted Encrid from head to toe.
Even with Pel’s strength, such an attack was formidable.
Encrid held his black-gold sword in one hand and Ember in the other, still sheathed. The spears rained down on him.
Encrid waited calmly, his hands ready. He struck as soon as the spears entered his range.
Clang, crack!
The black-gold sword shattered the spearheads while Ember split the shafts effortlessly.
Both weapons possessed exceptional sharpness, wielded with unparalleled skill. The result was inevitable.
"Wow."
One soldier, clueless, gasped in awe.
It wasn’t his fault, these events were rare to witness.
Telekinesis was the Evil Eye’s first power, but it had more. The demon, using remnants of its intellect, transmitted its will through psychic waves.
-So, can you fight without seeing?
The Evil Eye opened its eye, releasing a gray light. It was the petrifying curse.
"Keep your heads down!"
Luagarne warned. Everyone ducked their heads.
A so-called fool forced his comrades’ heads down. The lord hurriedly lowered his own.
"Uh... Arghh!"
Those who reacted too late turned to stone, starting from their eyes to their entire bodies.
Encrid averted his gaze.
Though he possessed resistance beyond the curse, he didn’t know it.
Was it a disadvantage?
Not at all. Fighting blind wasn’t particularly difficult for him.
"Let’s fight blind."
It was part of Jaxon’s training, sensing and fighting without sight.
Even with sight, Jaxon sometimes vanished with his movements. Fighting blind against such a figure meant relying purely on perception.
Encrid had trained for countless days with Jaxon.
He had enjoyed it, persevering through slow progress, unwavering and persistent.
Conditions were far easier now compared to then.
The Evil Eye’s shadow, smell, and sounds revealed its location.
While its petrification curse was an absolute death sentence for most, it wasn’t for Encrid.
‘Not against the Mad Knight Order.’
Except for Krais, it would never work.
Succumbing to this would render all his training meaningless.
Encrid tracked the shadow’s movements.
The Evil Eye’s curse was useless against the blind.
Frustrated, it hurled broken blades and bolts with telekinesis.
Unfazed, Encrid deflected them all.
He approached the demon unhurriedly, sword in hand.
He stood beneath it, head lowered, gripping the black-gold sword with both hands and raising it high.
The shadow of Encrid and the Evil Eye stretched long, visible to the kneeling lord.
The shadow resembled a guillotine blade. The sword fell.
Swoosh. Thud, crack.
The massive eyeball split in two, spraying black blood everywhere.
Thump.
The floating body fell to the ground, splattering blood on the lord’s nape, hands, and face.
The warm, fishy-smelling liquid trickled down his back. Though disgusting, the lord remained still, head bowed.
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